


Polaroid;Film

by ImaNewtFangirl



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Adorable, Bromance, Cute, Dylan O’Brien - Freeform, Dystopian, Fluff, Gen, I love maze runner so much omg, James Dashner, Ki Hong Lee - Freeform, Maze Runner Minho, Maze Runner Newt, Maze Runner Series, Maze Runner Short Story, Maze Runner Thomas, Minho also being a cinnamon roll, Minho/Newt bromance, Newt being the cinnamon roll that he is, Newt/Minho - Freeform, Sorry if the title is dumb it’s all I could think of, TMR one shot, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Maze Runner - Freeform, cuteness, fan fic, maze runner fanfic, read if you love cute stuff, tbh literally everyone being a cinnamon roll, teen, thomas brodie sangster, tmr - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaNewtFangirl/pseuds/ImaNewtFangirl
Summary: Minho needs a gift. Newt would go to the ends of the earth to get it for him.
Kudos: 3





	Polaroid;Film

Newt sighed, staring up at the stars in the night sky. He was sitting against a tree just outside the Deadheads. The doors were closed and everyone had settled down for the night. Crickets chirped and quiet murmurs from gladers coalesced into a soft and comforting hum. The Glade was so peaceful at times like these, one could almost forget about the horrors lying just outside those ancient stone walls.  
Almost.

But Newt had something else on his mind. The day before, Alby had told him that Minho had proven to be the fastest and bravest out in the Maze, and that he planned on promoting him to Keeper of the Runners. 

Newt had said that they should have a Gathering, but he requested that they do it in secret, without Minho knowing. When Alby asked why, he explained that he had an idea: he wanted to have a surprise celebration for his best friend. 

So, when all of the Runners had left for the day, a Gathering was held. 

Despite him not being a Keeper, Thomas was there, since Newt and Minho were his best friends.  
“Okay, so I want this to be a real surprise. If we’re not careful, knowing Minho, he’ll catch wind of it somehow, or some shank will open his mouth,” Newt said, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. 

He really needed this. He’d been feeling a little down lately, and this was the perfect thing to brighten the mood.

Thomas and the Keepers all nodded, sure that if someone did accidentally slip and give something away, they’d face a harsh scolding from the ‘Glade mother,’ as some of them had endearingly (and secretly) nicknamed Newt. 

After about an hour of brainstorming, talking, and planning, everything was set. 

They would have the celebration in a week, since in a of couple days, the Box would come up with more supplies that they could use. Then they’d have the other three days to prepare. Despite Alby being the leader, Newt was in charge of the event, assigning each Keeper with a task to take care of. The Keepers had made a joke, saying that Newt was now the ‘Keeper of the Planners.’

Gally and the Builders were in charge of the decorations, Frypan and the Cooks the food, Zart and the Track-hoes the flowers since they had a knack for gardening, and Winston and the Slicers were in charge of providing the meat for the grand meal the cooks were going to prepare. The rest of the Keepers also had their tasks, and Alby and Thomas said that they would help in any way they could.

Newt was quite pleased at how smoothly everything was seeming to go, but he had a feeling that he was forgetting something obvious. Then he realized what it was. A gift. He had completely forgot about a gift for Minho. What would a celebration be if there wasn’t a present?

But there was one problem: how would he put a request for something in the Box when it was supposed to come up in less than twenty-four hours? That was something he should’ve done when the Box came up the last time. 

That’s what was troubling Newt at this time. He was frustrated that he hadn’t requested a gift for Minho sooner, and that he might have to wait to give one to him for another week. Newt kept telling himself that really couldn’t have done anything, since he wasn’t aware of the event a week ago, when the Box came up last. It still frustrated him, though.

A sudden rustling noise made Newt flinch and look back at the small forest behind him. A beetle blade skittered down a near-by tree, it’s little legs making small clicking sounds on the bark. 

That’s when an idea sparked in Newt’s mind. It was a long shot, but he suddenly knew that he only has one chance at getting Minho a present. And he knew exactly how he would do it.  
He’d have to catch a beetle blade.

Two hours later ~

Newt sat in the middle of a cluster of bushes deep in the Deadheads, a sack of supplies by his side. He had everything he needed for his little stakeout. He had a plan for when a beetle blade decided to show itself, and he was determined to catch one, even if he had to stay awake the entire night. 

At first he was going to sit in a tree and wait, but he figured that he would have a better chance at catching one on the ground.

He sighed as he sat back on his hands. “Minho better bloody thank me for this,” he whispered. He chuckled at the sudden thought of Minho blushing at a nicely wrapped gift and calling Newt a slinthead and saying not to get all mushy on him and all. 

Newt had been thinking about it, and he knew exactly what to request for Minho. For as long as Newt could remember, Minho would always tell him about this one strange dream that he would always have. He said that it was with who he thought were his parents, even though he couldn’t see their faces. He said that they would always be at some kind of park and that his dad would be holding an old fashioned film camera, taking pictures of him and his mom. 

Newt had told him that maybe it was memory too special for anyone to take a way from him.

He didn’t know if Minho had ever opened up to anyone else about that dream, but he knew that it meant something to him, because whenever Minho spoke about it, his usual sarcastic tone would change into one that was full of emotion. 

That’s why Newt had decided to ask for a film camera for Minho. In hopes that maybe it would somehow help him remember his parents, and also because Newt knew that Minho would enjoy taking pictures in his free time.

Newt sat there for a long while before he heard anything. There were a few times when he actually fell asleep and was jolted awake when branches from the bushes around him poked into his neck. 

Newt’s head throbbed with a tired headache about four hours into his so-far unsuccessful stakeout, when suddenly he heard a familiar rustling. He quickly but quietly dug through his bag and pulled out a clumsily put-together basket made of sticks and twine.

He turned to where the sound came from and spotted it: a beetle blade placidly crawling across the forest floor. 

Newt got the basket in position and with his whole body, literally pounced at the little mechanical creature, trapping it beneath the basket.  
“Aha! Gotcha little shank!” Newt said, letting out an excited laugh. 

He held the basket down hard so the beetle blade wouldn’t be able to escape. He laid down on his stomach, putting his face just about an inch from the small openings in the wood, his tired eyes looking straight into the beetle blades glowing red ones. He’d never seen a beetle blade this closely before and it made goosebumps rise on his arms.

“Alright, whoever you are, I know you can hear me, so you better bloody listen. You listenin’?” he whispered harshly. He paused for a second, raising his eyebrows in question.

“Good. Okay, you see, we’re throwing a little party for Minho, and he needs a present. I know we usually request things by notes that we put in the Box, but you’re just gonna have to make an exception this time. I need you to get him a film camera. Yes, one of those old fashioned ones that has the film that comes out the side,” he stopped whispering and let out a small chuckle. He shook his head, suddenly feeling ridiculous. “Anyway, I need you to get it for me. For Minho. Please, this is really, _really_ important to me.” 

He gave the beetle blade one last pleading look, then slowly lifted the basket and the creature skittered away in a gleam of silver and red.

***

That morning, the wake-up came much sooner than Newt would’ve liked. He felt like he could’ve slept for hours, but he was anxious and excited to see if his request would be fulfilled, so he didn’t mind it much. 

The rest of the day, he could barely think of anything but the Box. He knew that he shouldn’t have too much hope, but he couldn’t help it. 

Finally, the time came for the booming alarm to sound through the Glade, signaling the weekly arrival of supplies.  
He was talking to Alby about what kind of meat to have at the party when he heard it.

“I’ll ask Winston if he knows, but...Uhh...wait a second….Sorry, gotta run!” he said quickly, not even finishing his sentence. He didn’t want to seem too excited about, but he still speed-walked over to the middle of the Glade, his limp slowing him down a bit.

Alby followed behind him. “Since when did you get this excited over a couple boxes of food, clothes, and some medicine?” He asked, walking over and grabbing one side of the door while Newt grabbed the other. 

“That’s none of your bloody business,” Newt said, a smirk on his face.

Alby just shrugged and lifted his side of the door. Gladers began to crowd around the Box, waiting to help organize and put away the new supplies.

When the doors were open, Newt carefully lowered himself into the damp and dark square of metal.  
He began handing sacks, boxes, and crates up to Alby, but not before quickly looking through each one for something specific. 

So far, there was no progress, and anger began to spread through Newt’s chest as he rummaged through a sack of clothes. One thing, just one thing that he had asked, and the stupid shanks behind all this couldn’t even give him that?

Newt angrily handed the sack up to Alby and looked back down. One box left. It was smaller and was fairly light when Newt lifted it.

He carefully lifted the cardboard flaps, pleading under his breath. 

Inside the box was filled with packing straw. Newt moved it out of the way to reveal a black and silver camera, it’s lens shining in the ray of light that shone down into the Box. Underneath the camera were six smaller boxes that Newt figured was the film.  
Suddenly, his anger washed away and was replaced with an overwhelming joy. 

So whoever put them here _did_ have somewhat of a heart.

“Hey, anything else?” Alby called down. 

Newt quickly closed the box and wedged it under his arm.  
“No, nothing of importance. Come on, help me back up.”

Alby looked down at Newt, a puzzled expression on his face. He just shrugged again and grasped Newt’s hand, pulling him up.

“What’s that?” Alby asked when Newt was standing by him again. He pointed to the box under Newt’s arm.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” was all Newt said. Then he walked away, limping all the while. 

***

On the morning of the celebration, the gladers proceeded to go on as usual until Minho and the other Runners left for the day. Newt and Alby had figured that they should try and get as much work done as completely necessary, and then begin preparing for the party.  
It was about noon when the necessary work was finished and Newt was just itching to get started. 

All of the gladers stood in a circle, ready to begin. “Okay, everyone should focus on their own tasks for now, and you can come to me or Alby for help,” Newt said, his hands on his hips.  
Conversation broke out among the gladers and everyone began to discuss what to do first.

They worked together all day, taking breaks and laughing, cracking jokes and saying how surprised Minho was going to be when he got back.  
Newt watched and helped in joy and anticipation.  
This was definitely going to be a night that Minho would never forget.

***

The night came quickly, and it was finally time for the Runners to come back. Newt stood by the doors, a cup of cold water in his hand, waiting to greet his friend. The rest of the gladers stood waiting near the homestead, where the party was going to be held.  
Soon, Minho and a couple other Runners came through the doors. When Minho saw Newt, his expression changed to a confused one.

“What’s up?” he asked as he approached Newt.

Newt shrugged. “Nothing, just thought you might want some water when you got back,” he said, trying not to smirk.

Minho just hummed and took the water, gulping down the whole thing in one go. “Thanks,” he said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and handing the cup back to Newt.

Newt just smiled and kept staring at Minho. 

“Well, I’ve gotta go to the map room before I forget all the useless klunk I learned today,” Minho said in a confused tone. He began walking over to the cement building. 

“I’ll come with you,” Newt said, following from behind. Minho looked at him suspiciously and squinted.

“What?” Newt asked,

“Mmm. Nothing,” Minho replied, shaking his head as he opened the door to the map room.

Newt stood and watched quietly, his hands clasped behind his back. He figured he should let Minho concentrate so he could get done sooner.

About ten minutes later, Minho was finished. He closed the map room door and sighed, stretching his arms above his head.

“Come on, I want to show you something,” Newt said, nodding towards the homestead.

“Okay, something’s definitely up. Why are you acting like a freak?”

“Just shut your bloody mouth and follow me,” Newt replied. Minho actually complied for once and followed Newt silently.

When they approached the Homestead, all of the gladers were gathered around the few picnic tables, talking excitedly.  
Zart and the Track-hoes had done an amazing job on setting out flowers, one of the Builders had even jokingly made a couple flower crowns. Frypan and the Cooks had prepared a ginormous meal of steak, mashed potatoes, fried chicken, corn, apple pie, lemonade, and couple other snacks.  
Thomas and a few of the gladers had worked together and cut out long, thin pieces of cardboard, colored them in with pencils and strung them across tree branches, creating a sort of colorful streamer type thing. A campfire was going, Chuck, Thomas, and a couple other gladers already sitting around it, enjoying themselves. Gally and the Builders made a couple simple games with materials they had gathered and a banner out of recycled paper and twine that read:  
**_“CONGRATS MINHO! WE KNEW YOU WERE A KEEPER.”_**

It wasn’t the most extravagant of parties, but Newt was proud of it. He beamed with pleasure as Minho took it all in with an expression of pure shock and surprise.  
“What…what’s this for?” Minho asked in an amazed tone. Newt laughed and Thomas came up to them from where he stood near the fire, “You dumb shank, whaddya think it’s for? Alby's makin’ you Keeper of the Runners,” he said, slapping Minho on the shoulder.

Minho just chuckled nervously and looked around at everything again.  
“Well, what do you think?” Newt asked.  
Minho smiled. “Dude, it’s shucking _awesome_. Who planned all this?”  
“Newt’s,” Thomas said as he walked back to where he was standing. Minho looked over at Newt, a thankful expression spreading over his features.  
Newt laughed again.“Well, what’re you waiting for? Let’s go have some fun,” he said, motioning for Minho to follow. They both walked over to a picnic table, talking and laughing, Minho’s smile growing wider with every new thing he saw.

***

A little while after dinner, Newt and Minho stood against a large tree eating small pieces of left-over meat they had cooked in the campfire.  
“Hey man, thanks for today. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed something as much,  
at least that I can remember. It was really great,” Minho said, looking over at Newt.  
Newt smiled as he chewed, “No problem, mate. I think everyone enjoyed it.”  
Suddenly, Newt remembered the present for Minho. “Hey, I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere!” Newt said quickly, then ran to the homestead.

He came back a couple minutes later, holding the wrapped gift behind his back. 

“What?” Minho asked.

Newt held out the medium sized gift like an offering, “Here.”

“Okay, this is gettin’ real corny. What is it?” Minho asked, taking the box and shaking it.  
“Just bloody open it,” Newt replied, rolling his eyes.

Minho smirked and untied the twine then began to remove the simple brown paper that Newt used to wrap it. Newt’s heart raced as Minho opened the box and lifted out the contents. He held the camera in his hands, an unreadable expression on his face, and Newt began to sweat when Minho didn’t speak for a few moments. 

Finally, Minho looked at him, and Newt could see tears threatening to fall from his eyes. 

“Hey man, are you okay? You know, if you don’t like it, I’ll just… I’ll make you something else, or—,” Newt was cut off by Minho shaking his head.

“N-no, it’s okay. It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just… this looks exactly like the camera from my dream,” Minho said, letting out a shaky breath.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I’m sorry if it’s making you upset. I guess I didn’t think about that,” Newt said, looking down. He suddenly felt ashamed of himself.

“No, Newt. Really, it’s fine. I just didn’t think I’d ever actually see one of these,” Minho said softly, tears now staining his face. Newt was shocked. This was the first time he’d actually seen Minho cry and it took all of his strength not to let his own tears fall. “You sure?” he asked.

“Yes, I really mean it. Thanks Newt,” Minho said, pulling his best friend into a warm embrace. 

“No problem, mate,” Newt replied, smiling softly and returning the hug. He sighed in relief over the fact that Minho hadn’t gotten angry at him. Or worse, that he didn’t accidentally hurt Minho by giving him such a sentimental gift.

When they pulled away from each other, Minho was wiping his face on his sleeve and chuckling nervously. “Man, I wasn’t crying. It’s the smoke from the campfire, it’s hurtin’ my eyes.”  
Newt laughed, slapping Minho on the shoulder. “Oh yeah, I guess gettin’ smoke in your eyes also makes your nose runny.”  
Minho looked at Newt accusingly, “Hey, don’t act like I didn’t see you tearing up like a little girly.”  
Newt shrugged, “You got me there.”  
They both burst out in fit of giggles, slapping each other on the backs.

***

The next morning, everything was back to normal. Everything was cleaned up, and put away. It made the gladers all a little bit sad that the celebration was over, but Newt had been right. It was something none of them would ever forget.

**Author's Note:**

> _Leave kudos if you think I should write more cute maze runner one shots like this!_


End file.
